The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Number 17

Codes: ff, fd, nc, mc, ft

Disclaimer

This is a work of adult fiction. It contains descriptions of sex, bondage and mind control. All characters portrayed are adults.

If you are under 18 do not read this.

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Note: this is a lesbian version of my story “Number 16” If you like this story let me know at:

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Louise awoke to find herself tied to some sort of chair. Heavy leather bands circled her wrists, legs and waist, pinning her to the heavy chair. Computer equipment lined the sides of the small room while through a glass window she could see out into a brightly lit room beyond.

The last thing Louise remembered was walking home to the house she shared with three other students after a hard day in university. It had been a long day of lectures and she had spent the evening in the library until finally deciding to call it a day at 8. By that time it was a cold, dark October evening and she walked briskly along the darkened path that ran beside the river, leaves crunching underfoot. It was a deserted and lonely spot at night, but Louise felt safe.

Then there had been a sudden rustling noise behind her and the next thing she remembered was being shoved to the ground as at least two people pinned her down while a third had injected her with something. After that, Louise remembered nothing.

Through the window she could clearly see a line of figures, at least a dozen or more, neatly lined up and sitting passively in identical chairs. Even from this distance, Louise could see that they were all wearing headphones and staring blankly ahead, all with long black tubes stuck into their mouths.

Fear suddenly began to grip Louise’s mind.

“Ah, I see you’re awake,” a voice announced from behind. Craning her neck to try and look at her tormentor, Louise caught a sight of a middle aged woman in thick glasses and a white lab coat.

“Who are you? Where am I?” Louise asked helplessly, attempting to calm her panic.

There was a short laugh. “I am Dr Valerie Anderson,” the woman announced, “or Mistress as you will soon come to know me.”

“Whaa...?” Louise reeled in shock. Mistress? What was going on?

“Yes indeed. I am your Mistress and you are going to join the ranks of my obedient sex-slaves,” the Doctor announced clearly. The Doctor’s brown eyes twinkled behind the heavy framed glasses she wore.

Louise was both shocked and confused. Surely this was just some sort of twisted joke? Sex-slaves? Mistress? What in God’s name was all this about? It had to be some sick joke. Or a dream? What the hell was happening? Whatever it was, it just couldn’t be real! Perhaps her attacker had hit her so hard it had caused brain damage? Or go into a coma? Louise was prepared to believe anything was possible but not that this might be real.

“Well my dear, introductions over. It’s time to begin your training slave,” the Doctor announced producing a syringe which she plunged into Louise’s arm. Immediately, Louise’s thoughts slowed down and she became utterly passive. The Doctor stood over her, observing her latest victim carefully, watching as the drug took effect.

Satisfied that Louise was fully under the influence of the powerful sedative, the Doctor initiated the first stage of her enslavement process. Reaching above the seated woman, the Doctor lowered a heavy metal dome shaped helmet down over Louise’s head, carefully positioning it so the contact pads touched the appropriate parts of the skull. Many years of research had gone into developing this equipment and the Doctor was proud of her accomplishments. It was a shame really that she couldn’t share it with her peers in the university, but this area of her life had to remain hidden from view. That was why she had built this secure, underground facility beneath the secluded country house she lived in, miles from the university. Here, she could indulge her real life in peace, unseen and unknown by anybody else.

The Doctor ensured that the speaker attachments were positioned over Louise’s ears and secured in place. Precision was vital. Nothing must be left to chance. Satisfied with her work, the Doctor now moved a large screen in front of the helmeted Louise.

The Doctor felt a familiar thrill run through her as she anticipated the process to come. The first stage was designed to wipe all resistance clean by effectively erasing parts of the existing brain that made up the existing personality, values and identity of the subject. It always made her so aroused to be able to reach deep into a person’s mind and scrub away everything that they held dear. Later, that empty mind could be refilled with whatever the Doctor desired. Just thinking about it made the Doctor’s pussy tingle and moisten in anticipation.

Pressing the button activating the helmet, the Doctor left the room. It would take at least two days to complete this stage and she would check up on progress later. That would give her plenty of time to ensure the cover story for Louise’s permanent disappearance was accepted. The clues had already been planted that would piece together Louise’s life as a troubled, drug-taking student, that suddenly disappeared without trace because they couldn’t handle university life. Her disappearance would make the papers for a few days, but it would soon become yesterday’s news.

Meanwhile, Louise was staring at the flashing images and twirling spirals that soothed and dulled her passive mind. The helmet set to work. It hummed to life. Slowly but steadily, the helmet began to stimulate the various areas of the brain that contained the higher areas of conscious thought and memory. The normal brain-function that controlled vital areas such as breathing and instinct were left untouched as the helmet systematically began to reshape Louise’s brain. Activated one at a time, the relevant neural pathways were exposed to the computer’s scrutiny, which then decided whether or not they should be eliminated. A small targeted bolt of energy administered to the specific site disrupted the neural connection and effectively erased whatever information was contained within, forever.

For the entranced and passive Louise, the sensation was like thousands of pins and needles in her head. It was uncomfortable, but not painful.

Louise stared wide-eyed and vacantly at the screen as her mind was slowly wiped clean.

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The Doctor smiled as she looked at the display. The readout indicated that Louise’s mind had been thoroughly scrubbed clean. Every scrap of individuality had been erased, leaving her an empty, mindless shell, ready to be filled with whatever the Doctor wished.

Returning to the main laboratory the Doctor paused to admire her handiwork. It never ceased to give her a thrill to see her obedient, brainwashed slaves when they were absorbing their programming. The sixteen women sat obediently in their chairs. Black tubes snaked into each slave’s mouth, stuffing it with a large phallic tube just the dimensions of the strap-on cock their Mistress loved to use on them. Their ears were encased in headphones that constantly droned the truth of their existence into their docile brains. Mind-wiped just like Louise, their brains were like sponges absorbing without question any programming that the Doctor wished to insert there.

But this level of programming was only designed to maintain and enhance the intensive brainwashing they had each received. Once the initial mind-wipe process was completed, it was necessary to install the new slave personality, containing the values, thoughts, ideas and needs that the Mistress desired her slaves to have.

Approaching a console, the Doctor deactivated the chairs marked 4 and 10. The headphones of both slaves grew quiet as they awoke from the programming trance. After a slight pause, the two slaves removed their headphones and the tubes from their mouths before getting up from the chairs. Approaching their Mistress, the two women stood stiffly at attention before her.

“How may this slave serve you, Mistress,” the two slaves asked in unison. Even though they appeared emotionless and robotic in nature, two pairs of wide, staring eyes were locked upon their Mistress. The flames of an unquenchable, raging inferno to serve and obey their Mistress burned like the sun within their slavish minds and their eyes glowed like stars in the night sky.

The Doctor smiled broadly, admiring the two gorgeous slaves that stood before her. Number 4 was a tall, athletic blond in her early twenties with big blue eyes and large breasts that had been surgically enhanced to please her Mistress. Standing alongside her companion, slave 10 was an African-American woman, smaller in stature, but whose naturally curvaceous body and ample chest brought much pleasure to her Mistress. Both had their long hair tied back in a strict pony-tail on top of their heads and were dressed in the uniform that she used to adorn her slaves: a pair of knee high black leather high heeled boots and a tight grey-coloured top with an attached body harness. The outfits were her own personal taste of course, but the Doctor was always more than pleased at how good it made her feel to see her own fantasies and fetishes adorning the obedient bodies of her playthings.

Running her hands over the soft yielding bodies of her property, the Mistress smiled once more, relishing their submission and obedience.

Instructing her two slaves to follow her, the Doctor returned to the room where Louise still sat bound in the chair. The helmet had been removed, it’s purpose completed and Louise now vacantly stared at the screen which still flickered in front of her. The Doctor turned the display off and spoke to Louise.

“What is your name?” she asked the glassy-eyed Louise who looked up at her from the chair.

Louise’s expression never changed as she replied in a dull, empty tone: “I don’t know.”

“Who am I?” she went on.

“I don’t know,” Louise answered once again.

Satisfied and pleased with her conversion, the Doctor was happy to move on to the next stage of transforming this young woman into her helplessly devoted slave. Releasing her from the chair, the Doctor instructed the newly converted drone to stand, which Louise did without question.

Summoning numbers 4 and 10 who were waiting patiently to one side, she commanded them to dress the passive slave-to-be.

Number 10 knelt and guided Louise’s feet into the heavy black leather boots before lacing them up tightly. Meanwhile, number 4 was busily pulling the heavy grey bondage-sweater over the unresisting woman. The sweater material hugged the contours of Louise’s body as number 4 adjusted the garment which fit her snugly, just as her Mistress liked. Incorporated into the sweater was a heavy black leather body harness, which number 4 began to buckle tightly around Louise’s breasts, chest and torso. The sweater also had round cut-outs to bare the slave’s breasts, which were nicely framed by the hard lines of the leather harness criss-crossing her chest. Jutting out proudly from her perky breasts, Louise’s stiff nipples showed just how much she was enjoying the attention in spite of her mindless state.

Slave 10, still on her knees, took hold of the leather thong hanging down from the sweater-harness which she pulled up between Louise’s legs. She was careful to position the two wider, cut-out sections of the leather under garment over Louise’s vagina and asshole, exposing them for use. Bringing the end of the thong up to the rear of the sweater-harness, the slave now tightly buckled the helpless woman into her slave-uniform. Louise gasped at the tightness pressing between her legs, but otherwise remained still. After that, Number 10 then closed the heavy leather bands that encircled Louise’s wrists before she stood up and joined her fellow slave.

Their Mistress savoured the sight of the three women standing before her, all blankly obedient and dressed in identical slave-sweaters, just as she liked.

Approaching her latest conquest, Mistress pressed her hand against one of Louise’s bare breasts, relishing the soft touch of bare slave-flesh while her other hand brushed against the leather covered pussy of her newest acquisition. Louise made no reaction and stood quite still, apparently oblivious to the attentions of the Doctor.

Removing her hands from the nether regions of Louise, the Doctor reached upwards and took hold of the heavy turtleneck collar that encircled the neck of her new slut. Neatly and carefully folding down the tight woollen collar that framed the deliciously vacant and pretty face of her newest sex-slave, the Mistress soothed her. “Mmm, you look just perfect,” she complimented her latest toy, as the large number 17 in large red numerals emblazoned on the front of the turtleneck collar was revealed to view.

Facing the two slaves once more the Doctor barked an order at them. “Take number 17 to the brainwashing chamber,” their Mistress commanded the slaves, “and prepare her for conditioning.”

“Yes Mistress,” slaves 4 and 10 answered together before leaving the room, guiding an unresisting number 17 between them.

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Number 17 was ready by the time the Doctor entered the brainwashing chamber. She was now bound upright to a heavy metal X frame, spreading her legs wide for access. Heavy black headphones covered her ears while a visor covered her eyes.

Numbers 4 and 10 stood obediently to one side as the Doctor checked their work, ensuring that Louise was secured carefully to this latest device that would transform her into an obedient slut. Buried deeply within slave 17’s ass was a vibrating butt-plug, wired into the same computer that would re-program her mind, while a large dildo had been inserted into her pussy, also linked to the computer. Caressing the smooth flesh of the helpless young woman pinned to the machinery that she had so carefully designed, the Doctor relished this moment. Soon her slave would react very differently to her touch. The large number 17 emblazoned upon the trapped woman’s turtleneck collar would soon become a reality. Once her brainwashing was complete, slave 17 would live to serve her every whim and worship her Mistress forever.

Happy that Louise was tightly secured to the frame and ready for conditioning, the Doctor now reached up and swung a large rubber tube down from the ceiling. Louise’s wide empty eyes stared vacantly ahead, thinking of nothing. The Mistress opened the vacant eyed slave’s mouth with her fingers and thrust the cock-shaped tube deep within the gaping orifice.

The Doctor grinned widely as she examined the scene before her. It never ceased to give her a thrill to see one of her victims trussed up and being prepared for a life of eternal slavery to her. The Mistress juiced at the sight.

It was time to complete number 17’s transformation. Activating the equipment, the Mistress left the chamber, taking her two obedient slaves with her. An afternoon of sex with these two fine specimens of enslaved womanhood lay ahead of her.

Meanwhile, left alone in the brainwashing chamber, the computer began its irrevocable transformation of the empty brained Louise. Her pussy began to throb as the dildo sprang to life while the butt-plug began to vibrate and pulsate in her ass. Simultaneously, the moulded rubber cock also began to slide back and forth in her mouth, automatically causing her to suck it vigorously.

At the same time as she began to be sexually stimulated, the voice of the Doctor began to play over the headphones, echoing through Louise’s empty mind as the visor began to display pictures of her Mistress.

“I am your Mistress,” the voice commanded her, “you are my slave. You exist to serve and obey me. I own you. Your mind and body are my property. You have no thoughts because you are a slave. Slaves are mindless. Slaves just obey. You are my slave. You obey me. You must obey your Mistress. Obeying and pleasing your Mistress is your only purpose. You love your Mistress. Your pussy is wet for Mistress. Your pussy throbs for me. I am your Mistress and I own your pussy.”

Number 17’s mind absorbed these thoughts and believed them. She was a slave. She obeyed Mistress. Nothing else mattered.

“Accept your fate and obey me. Obey your Mistress. Slaves must obey. You are now my slave.”

Number 17 accepted and obeyed. Mistress was her owner. She was a slave. That was all that mattered. The stimulation of her body continued unabated as the machines continued to fuck her, cementing her sexual pleasure with complete obedience to Mistress.

“Now suck my rubber cock, slave. Use your tongue,” Mistress’s voice continued.

As commanded, 17 began to really suck and tease the rubber phallus in her mouth. It vibrated back and forth and number 17 put all her conscious effort into stimulating it as if it was the real strap-on cock worn by her Mistress. Meanwhile, the voice and visor continued to bombard her with messages; telling her to obey; telling her that she was a slave; telling her that Mistress owned her.

Slave 17 accepted it all without question.

Finally after pounding her pussy and ass into a frenzy of heightened arousal, number 17 was allowed to cum. If the rubber cock hadn’t been thrust deep into her mouth, 17 would have screamed with joy. Instead, she was rewarded by a jet of fluid that spurted down her throat.

“Swallow my essence, slave,” Mistress ordered, “swallow it all. You love my pussy juices. You are addicted to my love juice. You need to taste and swallow my sweet nectar. Slurp and obey.”

Number 17 obeyed, drinking down the ambrosia of her Mistress. What 17 didn’t know was that Mistress had created a series of highly addictive chemical compounds which were then flavoured to taste like her love juices. The drugs in this mixture would keep her in a permanent state of mild arousal, ready to serve and obey at all times, while also creating a physical need and dependence on her Mistress.

“Good slave,” Mistress’s voice told her. “Obeying me brings you pleasure. Obey your Mistress and receive pleasure. You will always obey me!”

Slave 17’s mind took in these new commands. They became the truth in her mind. Sexual pleasure and obedience to her Mistress were now firmly linked together in 17’s slavish mind.

There was a slight pause before the cycle began again. The dildo throbbed in her dripping pussy once more while the butt plug began to pulsate again. Her Mistress’s voice boomed in her ears while the visor flashed more images of her Goddess in front of her eyes.

Number 17 sank deeper and deeper into slavery.

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The Doctor was pleased with progress. Number 17 was responding very well to her programming. The indications were that her mind had absorbed everything the Doctor had wanted it to contain. At last, the new slave should be complete.

The Doctor ordered numbers 4 and 10 to return to the brainwashing chamber. She had indeed spent a very enjoyable afternoon repeatedly pounding the pussies and asses of these two very devoted slaves with her favourite strap-on before getting them to lick her off. She was certain that number 17 would be an equally pleasant experience.

By the time the Doctor arrived, 17 had been released from the frame and the devices unplugged from her orifices. She now stood at attention in line with the other two slaves; arms stiff, head held high, booted feet planted close together.

The Doctor approached her three slaves, breathing in the pungent sweaty aroma of the intense sexual passion that emanated from her latest sex-slave. Nipples stiff, number 17 stood obediently at attention. A slick, greasy sheen coated slave 17’s body and dark pools of sweat stained the bondage-sweater where the harness had pressed the material close against her body. The turtleneck collar, however, remained high and tight around the slave’s neck, proudly proclaiming her new identity as 17.

The Doctor stood in front of her latest convert. Instead of the empty, vacant dullness in the eyes of a mind-wiped drone, the Mistress immediately recognised the flame of passion that burnt behind the twin brown pools that stared back at her. Number 17’s body was stiff, but her mind was an inferno of uncontrollable lust, passion and desire to serve, obey and please her absolute Mistress. Nothing else mattered in her life. Mistress was everything.

“Who am I?” the Doctor asked.

“My Mistress,” number 17 replied in a voice filled with awe and reverence.

The Mistress’s pussy tingled as she heard the words she so craved spoken aloud by her newest convert for the very first time. “What are you?” she went on.

“I am your slave, Mistress,” came the immediate reply.

“Tell me the truth of your existence slave,” she now ordered.

Once more, the woman formerly known as Louise spoke in a voice that quivered with arousal. “I live to obey and serve you Mistress,” she began. “I am your sex-slave. My body belongs to you. I exist to pleasure you. Your pleasure is my only desire, my Mistress.”

“Good slut,” Mistress praised her. The Doctor was satisfied that once more, her process had prevailed. Now it was time to initiate slave 17 into her new way of life.

“Number 17, kneel,” she barked.

Instantly, the throbbing slave sank to her knees before her Mistress. The Doctor reached down and lifted up the hem of her dress, exposing her pussy, the sight of which made 17’s eyes dance with delight.

“Lick me, slave,” the Doctor ordered.

Slave 17 immediately bent forwards and pressed her lips against the glorious folds of her Mistress and thrust her tongue out, sucking and teasing like a well practiced slut. She slurped and licked, working her tongue deeper and deeper into the divine moistness of her Mistress, desperately hoping to please her Mistress. Mistress’s hands were on 17’s head, gripping her tightly, as the slave sucked and pleasured the pussy she now adored with her entire being.

Mistress was slowly groaning above her, so 17 knew that she was bringing her pleasure. That was all that mattered. The moans of her Mistress drove her to redouble her efforts which produced more and more sounds of pleasure from Mistress.

Mistress’s body was shuddering as 17 teased and nibbled her clit and pussy lips before, once again, thrusting her needy tongue deep inside her Goddess. Sweet nectar flowed freely down, the smell and taste of which intoxicated the horny slave-girl.

Finally Mistress howled in pleasure as her body bucked and spasmed in delight as it was overcome by orgasmic ecstacy.

“Drink it,” Mistress commanded her in a breathy voice. “Drink my essence. Drink it all down slave!”

Slave 17 greedily and hungrily lapped and licked every last drop of sweet pussy juice that flowed forth from the divine, holy vagina of her Mistress. Working her tongue down Mistress’ thighs, she scooped up every last dribble and drop of the glorious nectar she craved. Slave 17’s own pussy was alight, inflamed with passion for the Mistress she adored with every fibre of her being.

The Doctor looked down at her kneeling slave. Number 17’s eyes glowed with sheer delight. Her face was slickly coated with pussy-juice which slowly oozed downwards, puddling where the high, tight turtleneck met her chin, forming a dark stain on the heavy woollen collar.

“I own you completely now, my slave,” Mistress announced.

Eyes aflame with passion, body singing in obedient rapture, pussy tingling with need, 17 gazed up at her owner. “Yes Mistress,”she retorted happily.

The End